In August
1945 the U.S. Air Force dropped a couple of big ones over Japan, ending
the war in the Pacific. Months earlier crazy Adolf saw fit to do the right
thing and kill himself, ending the war in Europe. It was a time of rebirth
for the United States: new lives, new homes, new cars, and, of course,
new boats. The American public had been promised a futuristic society
after the war--a society as depicted at the 1939 World's Fair,
which included space-age cities, flying cars, robots, remote-controlled
kitchens, and, in general, push-button living. Little of this materialized
directly after the war, and life went on much as it had prior to World
War II.

REHASHED
PREWAR DESIGNS

On the boating
scene, as described last month, the public was lead to believe that a
glorious new era would greet us at the end of World War II. Bold new designs
were promised using advanced materials and construction techniques developed
during the war. Towards the end of the war, boatbuilders issued renderings
of boats that looked like rocket ships that had inadvertently rolled into
the river. So what was seen in 1946? Not much. Perusing spring/summer
1946 magazines of the time, it is apparent that companies that were producing
pleasureboats before the war, sadly, with a few exceptions, were producing
virtually the same boats after the war.

Matthews
apparently did not have enough time to design the promised new models,
and its "38-foot deluxe Sedan" was the same boat it was producing
before the war. The first Chris-Crafts showing up were also disappointments,
being rounded-off, gussied-up prewar designs. Wheeler introduced its "revolutionary
sunliner cruisers," which appeared to be prewar hulls with semistreamlined
superstructures. The sole so-called revolutionary feature was "streamsheer,"
a stripe just below the sheer incorporating a Plexiglas band instead of
portholes, providing a continuous strip of light in each lower deck compartment.

WAR
TECH

There was
hope, however. Harbor, which built air-sea rescue craft during the war,
came out with a 40-footer called the Harco 40 whose styling was sleek
by today's standards. Powered by two 300-hp V12 Scripps engines,
she was a beautiful thing. Huckins presented smart-looking new "FairForm
Flyers" (to me, this always sounded like a good name for a brassiere).
Steelcraft, a funky, clunky 26-footer that looked something like a floating
`47 Plymouth, advertised, "While others caulk and scrape...we
are having fun!" Indeed, a welded steel hull on a 26-footer was
revolutionary. The only wee problem was that after a couple of years,
salt water rusted through the thin skins, sending more boats to the bottom
than Germans subs did during WWII. Chalk this up as another casualty of
war.

Richardson
produced its infamous molded plywood "bathtub cruisers." They
had rounded bows and a "transom" that appeared just like the
end of an inverted bathtub. War tech made these strange, round transoms
possible even if they were completely impractical. It seems they were
built that way just because it was possible.

Post-war
technology also reared its complicated head in the form of systems and
equipment that became available to the masses: Radiotelephones, refrigeration,
engine-air controls, pressure-water systems, electric toilets, electronic
navigation aids, and gensets would soon become common.